The Good Name of Leon
by Unicorn of Castiel
Summary: "The Musketeers gonna recruit or outlaw this Leon then?" "Who?" The barkeeper let someone else's flagon over flow as he stared at Athos in disbelieve. Not having heard of Leon – THE Leon – hadn't even occurred to him as an option. Leon meets a group of soldiers, that remind him of people he used to know, on his travels. There's something about one of them in particular...


**AUTHORS NOTE: Upon re-watching Saturday's Musketeers episode I realized the shear number of Leon's in BBC shows. Merlin's Leon is without a doubt the best, of course. My personal head-canon is that immortal Leon spends his years stopping bar fights and solving crime (the bar fight bit is the head-canon - Leon survived enough battles in Merlin for his immortality to be canon). So naturally me and my friend (Prisoner of Azkaban711) decided that this fic needed to be written. And I called dibs. Enjoy!**

* * *

Athos was on his third flagon of wine, which meant the backing track of drunken French citizens in this tavern was becoming something he could really tap his toe to. Sometimes he paid attention to what the barkeeper was saying to him. Sometimes he didn't.

"The Musketeers gonna recruit or outlaw this Leon then?"

That comment was so out of the blue Athos actually raised his head.

"Who?"

The barkeeper let someone else's flagon overflow as he stared at Athos in disbelieve. _Not having heard of Leon – THE Leon –_ hadn't even occurred to him as an option.

"You musta heard of Leon. Long darkish blonde hair. Curls."

"The red guard?" Athos new the traitorous undercover guard. He'd gotten a splash of his blood on his best jacket. The barman creased his singular brow.

"No. Englishman. This Leon stops bar fights. Sorted a few schemes in the market. That sorta thing. Becoming somethin of a hero."

Athos didn't have a clue who he was talking about. This New Leon sounded like he was doing 60% of what the Musketeers spent their time doing. He considered the barman, and then took another sip of wine - there was nothing wine couldn't fix. He'd let Aramis and Porthos have a crack at it though.

* * *

"Has anyone heard of this Leon? Supposedly he's quite well known."

Athos sat back in his chair. He'd only just gotten used to the shifted power balance he felt in this room. Captain of the Garrison was enough influence for one life thank you very much. Aramis and Porthos shared a glance.

"The red guard?" Aramis asked. Probably remembering the fact that he'd been shot dead like Athos had.

"Apparently not." Athos turned to Porthos like he would know. Even that man's _shrugs_ were angsty. "Englishman I'm told."

Athos sounded like they were just here to list observations on a stranger.

"Is he a criminal?" Aramis asked the question on everyone's mind, even if he and Porthos were the only ones in the room who didn't know the answer. D'artagnan had made Athos agree he could have the weekend off. _Four years on the front._ He and Constance called this their honeymoon. Athos shrugged in a _that question is neither here nor there_ fashion.

"Stops them from what I've heard."

"And we're talking about him because…?" Porthos led, folding his arms. Athos was ready with his reply.

"Everyone's talking about him. Stopped some local corruption in the markets. Stopped a lot of bar fights. And I mean _a lot."_

Athos waited for their reaction. Aramis and Porthos shared another glance.

"But that's _our_ thing." Aramis looked like he didn't understand the concept. Porthos had his mouth open like he was about to have said the same thing, but was too furious to get it out. Athos smiled. The planning to track down New Leon started immediately.

* * *

New Leon's hair flicked over his head as he rose from smashing one brawler into a table, he held another in a head lock, sword hanging from his hand. He looked up in time to see three men enter the tavern. He let the brawlers drop. They crawled to the sides of the bar to reach safety and never fight each other ever again. Leon's face went from fight ready to broken in half within a second. For someone who had so swiftly been beating the other men's asses, it was rather disturbing for him to have been caught off guard by the Musketeers simply entering the room. That "war hero's reputation" must really proceed them.

It wasn't really the musketeers he was looking at. It was Aramis.

 _"Lancelot?"_ New Leon sounded like he couldn't breathe. Aramis glanced around the tavern. _Nope. This dude was definitely staring at me._

"Who?"

Leon stepped forward. Athos and Porthos looked to one another, their hands were still on their swords, but it didn't seem like New Leon was being much of a threat, only daring himself into walking towards Aramis.

"You…" The man the Musketeers had tracked down - The present hero of Paris – seemed to be getting very emotional about seeing a ghost. New Leon brought himself to smile, to stand a little straighter and laugh. He shook his head and the strange noise came out on his chuckle. "Lancelot."

"There are no lance's here. Few or many." Athos guessed. It clearly wasn't what this guy meant, but maybe in crazy language…

New Leon seemed to snap out of it.

"I'm sorry," He bowed a little. Who _bows?_ Athos ascended the scale of grumpy in record time. Leon smiled and shook his head again as he turned back to Aramis. "You just remind me of someone I knew once. _So much."_

Aramis flicked his eyes away again because New Leon was a little creepy with this eye contact thing.

"Just one of those faces..." Aramis attempted an easy smile, that encouraged his confidence in charming his way out of situations to kick back in.

Leon nodded, smile turning weak as he took a step back to refine himself. He glanced to the brawlers, he'd have to take a rain check on the firm talking to he normally gave fighters once he'd stopped them. He kept his sword out. Lancelot-lookalike or no Lancelot-lookalike. These people had their own weapons and their own armour.

"I'll leave you to your evening." Leon turned, intending to return to his table and keep his head cloaked and under the radar. Porthos spoke up before he could.

"Actually. By the looks of those men you were blooding up - and the reputation we're hunting down - we're here to see _you_."

"Leon the Hero of Paris?" Athos asked. His voice was dry. The sarcasm of the trio could have been questionable, Leon could recognize the advantages it had as an interrogation technique. At least from where he was standing. He was almost worried he _wasn't_ Leon.

"Not a hero. I guess people would talk about a few of the bar fights I broke up." Leon shrugged. Lancelo – _Aramis_ raised his eyebrows.

"A few? We hear _Twenty-one_ in five days."

Leon shrugged again. _Under the radar._ Rule one of immortality. There were just so many damn bar fights nowadays. There weren't many in his day unless you were enchanted into one. That was probably a lie of nostalgia. _Every_ day was his day. He couldn't let all those acts of violence go unchecked. Knighthood surged in his blood.

"There were a lot. Some were the same fight, just started up again. It's no big deal."

Porthos snorted.

"It looks like the crime follows you."

Leon looked the men up and down, taking in their uniform, maybe he was too bold.

"You're musketeers. Wouldn't people say the same about you?"

"You're not a musketeer." Porthos sneered. Aramis stepped in to keep his charm survival up.

"You see, we knew another Leon. He betrayed innocent people, prepared to ruin their lives, a corrupt man."

Athos felt the need to finish his sentence. Leon was slightly suspicious of how dead tone depressed the Captain of the Musketeers was. He'd revered the stories he'd heard of these musketeers in the recent war. Don't get him started on wars. They were exhausting.

"We were a little weary when we heard of you to say the least."

Leon smiled – because he knew his smile was a friendly one. There was little else to do other than stop drunken people beating each other to death when you traveled the world. That was something you learned quickly.

"Ah." He explained. "Every few decades someone comes along to tarnish the good name of Leon."

"Wait. Few decades?" Athos was either very drunk or he was very drunk and talking to another man who was drunk – because New Leon didn't look much older than him.

"Or so my father told me." Leon covered his mess ups smoothly. It was something else you got used to. "Family name."

"Did Leon Senior go around doing the jobs of other people?" Porthos asked the question like it was a threat. Aramis stepped in to mediate, gesturing with his hat as he spoke.

"Not that we don't encourage a just reaction if someone happens upon petty crime, but we've heard such frequent stories of you that we'd have hoped you'd come to someone with more training."

Leon had plenty of training. The Musketeers could tell from the moment they'd seen him smashing that man's head into the table. No one pointed it out. The opportunity for Athos to question him on it had probably passed. He didn't seem like a Spanish spy. His French was poorly accented. He was definitely English.

Leon sighed and looked between them. A family of soldiers. He stowed his sword.

"Look, don't worry. I completely understand - this is your home. You guard it. From what I can tell you do a good job. I'm merely a traveler, I will never have your sense of duty again. I once had a brotherhood of soldiers like you. I'd have you treasure it."

The Musketeers mainly stood blankly through Leon's speech until it got depressing. But Aramis leaned forward to add a comment for Porthos's benefit.

"Maybe not all brothers. Bit incestuous if you think about it."

Porthos smirked. Leon broke out a smile without having heard them. Despite the downer his life commentary had put on things. He seemed easy going enough that the smile didn't seem like a surprising turn. Leon thought he was doing alright on the immortality side of things. He was relatively happy. It had taken some explaining to Merlin, sure. He wasn't 100% sure he understood it himself. Sometimes knights were just immortal knights. Get over it.

"Come!" He said. "I'll buy you a round of drinks and I'll move on my way. There's never an end to the bar fights I can try to stop. It's a worldwide problem, y'know."

* * *

"And then he used us as _stairs!"_

Leon and the Musketeers had laughed over their flagons until it hurt. Porthos looked like it was his self-proclaimed birthday again. He seemed about ready to call for a watermelon.

"Now _that's_ how you steal a horse!"

Leon screwed his eyes shut as he laughed and nodded.

"It wasn't so funny at the time."

The Musketeers just laughed more.

Even in their merriment, Leon would glance to Aramis every now and then. A sad look would cross his eyes, even if they didn't reach his expression. Eventually Porthos lent to Aramis.

"Maybe it's his _Stare."_ Aramis laughed it off. It was still a little creepy though.

Leon told more stories of his family of soldiers and the Musketeers shared a few of their own. They laughed. They drank. For someone they'd been a little annoyed with before they'd entered this bar, and then labelled as crazy, New Leon was the sort of person who would fit in the Garrison well. When he stood to leave, the three Musketeers stood too.

"I'm sure we could find you a place amongst the Musketeers." Athos was drunk – but he meant it. Even if he couldn't figure out all the details of how to do that right now. "Maybe you'd find more of that duty you once had."

Leon smiled kindly and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Perhaps I was being morbid. My duty – my family - is once and future." He pulled his jacket back on and stood by the door.

Perhaps the horse tied outside was his. Perhaps they'd watch him ride into the moonlight and never see him again. The Musketeers could believe that, something about New Leon was mysterious enough to leave them doubting if he'd ever existed by morning. Something about him suggested they'd remember him much longer than the treachery of Old Leon. The Good name would live on.

Leon smiled again. A little sad. "I've just been waiting on the future for a long time. Feels like forever."

* * *

 **AUTHORS NOTE 2: I'm a little iffy on this fic. My opinion changed on every edit I've done this evening, so I'll come back at another point and check it's okay. Please leave feedback and all that. I mainly write Marvel fanfiction, but I'll have some more Musketeer stories coming over the next few weeks, so check that out if you're interested.**

 **Au Revoir!**


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